The prompt - Digital Devil Saga, Angel/David; submissive male - he preferred the view from underneath
He'd liked to look up at her.
There would have been worse ways to die. Well, the firebombing of the clinic hadn't been a good thing. 'The enemy is fear. We think that it is hate, but it is fear.' He wasn't sure that was the exact quote, but his mind was hazy now and he had more important things to do, like comfort his wife. And pray for them all.
Jenna'd liked to watch over him.
There had always been cracks about who wore the pants in their relationship, and David's response had been, "both of us, but she looks better in them." Jenna had always been afraid. He wouldn't tell people that and they'd laugh if he did, thankfully. She fought that fear by keeping control. If she controlled him, she could keep him happy so he wouldn't leave. If she controlled him, she could keep him safe so he wouldn't die.
They weren't gods, and so he prayed.
He'd liked to look up at her face when they were together. She'd liked to watch his reactions, because they fed her own and she wanted control because she loved him.
In the bible, angels had to tell the people they appeared before not to be afraid. He tried to tell her that now, because she was so afraid of losing him. It would happen. But Jenna, don't die with me. I want to see you live on, be happy.
I don't want to be looking down on you from above. I want to be the rock you stand on.
But he wasn't god any more than she was. Any more than the entity she had discovered and called god because she wanted someone to have ultimate power so that she could control them and make everything right.
Even the god his parents had worshipped hadn't been able to keep his children from betraying him again and again. Nothing changed until he stopped smiting back.
Jenna, don't… because she was breaking, and he'd worked so hard to support her, to see her whole and beautiful, Jenna who had been born uniquely whole, above the division between men and women, and looked down on because of it. She was so afraid, she was so afraid, and…
He'd done all he could. And he couldn't show fear for her, or she really would break because she would think he was afraid of death. He lived in this world, he had the syndrome, he'd known he would die. But, Jenna…
Fear is uncertainty. To hate is to have a target for that hate, is to be able to plan and control.
Hate was the easy way out.
We all live in glass houses, Jenna, even though I kept yours clean. Don't start throwing stones, Jenna. You're better than that. Jenna wouldn't believe him if he told her that now. She was nothing. How could she be anything noble if she was the one who couldn't save her own husband?
Would she be able to look at herself in a mirror once that of his eyes was gone?
And so he prayed for them both, because he would rather have just died than watch her die.